Ginny weasley and the half blood prince
by Bombshellstyle
Summary: This is the half blood prince book in the perspective of the only slightly insane mind of ginny weasley. Shes not completely insane though, dont worry. She still has four, wait no, three whole brain cells left! (Not seriously) This is a really funny fanfic, written by ginny herself. Enjoy.
1. Chapter one: I’m not insane.

Ginny Weasley. Ginny Molly Weasley. Ginerva Molly Weasley. With a boyfriend. Who needs letters. Yet isn't getting any. Yes, I ginerva Molly Weasley, do in fact have a boyfriend. He's wonderful! Cool, fun, um, uh... cool? Anyway, Dean Thomas is my boyfriend. He's super cool. Did I say that already? Okay then.

As I was saying, I may have forgotten to write to my very cool boyfriend this summer. I mean, he's a cool guy and all, but I just can't find the time to write him a letter. I get really busy with stuff that I need to do around the house. Like for example, I'm too busy cleaning and getting rid of garden gnomes to write him.

"Hey Gin!" I hear a voice from outside my door shout. "Me n George finished with the garden gnomes. How come you never have to do stuff around the house?" Ron complained. Okay, maybe I'm not that busy right now. So what? Is there some kind of law saying you MUST write to your boyfriend during the summer? No! I didn't think so. I mean, of course i could possibly be writing him right now...

That's beyond the point. Continuing on a completely unrelated note, I think there may be a slight possibly that Harry will be comming to the burrow soon.

Wait, hold up. I just went from talking about my boyfriend to talking about Harry Potter. Does that mean something?

Nah

Anywho... Harry May be comming soon. I mean, maybe. I don't know for sure. It's just that he almost is always here. I probably spend more time with him than with Dean. Hmmm, isn't that interesting?

No. No it is not. Stop it ginny. You're going insane. Nevermind, I'm probably not going insane. Right? RIGHT? Well, right now I _am _engaging in the perfectly normal activity of arguing with myself via notebook so...

Ginny seriously stop. Geez.

I should probably get to sleep anyway. I'm tired.

You know, I really did try to fall asleep. Tried. That's the key word here.

I immediately heard the sound of knocking and the door opening downstairs as I **tried **(insert key word in bold...) to fall asleep.

I looked at the clock and realized that it was past midnight. Mum was definitely asleep and tonks was gone. Right? But did I check to make sure? Nope. Nope I did not. Why not, you may ask? Well there's only one thought that goes through a 15 year old girl at three in the morning when the door opens while it's getting pretty dangerous out there. Wanna know what?

**_I'm going to die._**

But truth be told, that happens way too often. In fact, I yelled out those exact words right after Fred gave me an unidentifiable candy for dessert. Don't accept a treat from the twins without at least one signed document. Just sayin'.

So after I thought that thought, I went into disaster mode. Because cmon, it's three in the morning. I'm fifteen. It's dark times. I barely have five brain cells left. You can't exactly blame me.

I grabbed a slipper for protection, and quietly walked down the stairs, right after fastening the shoebox to my head as a helmet.

I know what you're thinking.

_Why. Why, ginerva, would you possibly use a slipper for protection when there are about nine perfectly good wands in this house and one is on your nightstand table?_

Because. Because I think I just lost another brain cell. 15 year old girls with four brain cells at three in the morning are the people who immediately forget that they're a witch at the moment they go into attack mode. It's a blessing, really.

**A bloody blessing.**

Walking down the stairs quietly, slipper in hand and box on head, I didn't make a sound. The kitchen light was on and I could hear food cooking.

Now, if I was even a slightly reasonable person, I would've assumed my mother and father were downstairs. But I'm not even slightly reasonable. Wanna know what my four remaining brain cells came up with?

_Crazy chef death eater stalker came in here to steal our pots and pans. Prepare attack._

_**A bloody blessing I tell you.**_


	2. Chaptertwo:itsnotlettingmespace

I immediately grabbed the dress shoe on the bottom stair to use as more protection. I also picked up other objects for protection, including a weird long, hard toffee looking candy on the floor laying next to a weasley wizard wheezes box, a WWW box lid, and a toy broomstick.

I know it may seem a bit excessive, but come on! I was about to get attacked by a ninja chef death eater stalker who wanted all our pots and pans! What did you expect me to do?

I tiptoed into the kitchen, but my eyes went wide when I saw who was actually there. Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Tonks, mum and dad. Wow, unexpected much?

I was THIS close to slapping the headmaster of our school on the head with a slipper and force-feeding an identifiable WWW product to the boy who lived, the dude who savoured, the warrior who worried, you name it.

You know, I just realized how stupid my remaining brain cells are. If the rest of the cells are going to leave me, they may at least leave me with four smart brain cells.

I obviously couldn't just stand there like an idiot, so I ducked under the table. I listened to a bit of the conversation but got bored eventually. I think I might've fallen asleep there, I don't know. It's all kinda hazy now.

I remember waking up and getting dragged to Fred and George's room by Ron. "Wha? Why we up?" I mumbled sleepily. "Harry's here!" Ron exclaimed.

I don't know what it is with me, but when someone starts mentioning my connection with Harry, i get all defensive. I wonder why?

Is it your huge crush on him?

OMYGODGINNY! Forget I ever said that. PLEASE. I never said that. I HAVE A BOYFRIEND. Mr. what's his face! Wait, what's his name again? Oh yea, mr. cool guy. Almost forgot. Heh.

Plus Harry would never like me

Not that I like him

Oh my god let's just change the subject

Anyway, when Ron said this I said "what? Why? Why are you telling ME?" I_ don't have a crush on him. _Because I have a boyfriend**.**

My 4 brain cells added that last little part.

He rolled his eyes. "We're friends, duh! You're like one of his favourite people." He said.

Yeah. But you can't get embarrassed in front of your own brother so it's a free pass. Just gotta make sure I don't get defensive later while talking to other people.

Ron burst the door open and slashed the curtains to the side like a madman.

"Harry! We didn't know you were coming!" He said, slapping him on the back. "Don't hit him!" I rolled my eyes.

Ron and Hermione sat on the bed, leaving no space for me. It may sound a bit childish, but I felt a teensy weensy itsy bitsy bit left out.

They started talking about teachers and blah, and I just kind of listened. Then Harry started mentioning DADA professors. "The new professer can't be worse than unbridge." He said. "No ones worse than umbridge!"

I thought about that for a moment.

"I know someone who's worse than umbridge." I told them. Harry apperanlty was just seeing me for the first time, not noticing me standing here the whole time. Maybe he would've noticed me if I wasn't just "best mates little sister". But that doesn't matter.

"What now?" Ron groaned. "_Her!"_ I said, referencing phlegm. Phlegm was driving me crazy lately. I mean, the way she talks to me, you'd think I was about three!

"She _is _pretty full of herself now isn't she?" Hermione sighed. I nodded. Harry looked astonished, so I'm guessing he thought we were talking about someone else. We were talking about _Fleur. _Or _phlegm _as I so cleverly thought up.

Ron tried defending her, but I know it's because he just can't get enough of her.

"Who are we talking about?" Harry asked. But he didn't need an answer, because fleur came through that door right then.

"'Arry! It as been zo long!" She said. And. Then. She. Kissed. Him. On. The. Cheeks.

Ok maybe I was gritting my teeth just there.

She gave him breakfast and said all this crappy sappy stuff. She told him that she was getting married to Bill and that her sister was the president of the 'we love harry' fan club.

Okay, maybe she didn't say that exactly, but it was pretty close. By the way, the we love Harry fan club is a real thing. I started it when I was six.

Uh, nevermind. Pretend I never said that. Pretend Romilda Vane said it. If anyone asks, Romilda Vane started that club. I'm not even in it. Not anymore, at least.

Mum hates her," I said quietly. "I do not hate her!" said Mum in a cross whisper. "I just think they've hurried into this engagement, that's all!"

"Yeah yeah." I scoffed. It was pretty obvious mum didn't like her. She always looks at her with a face that clearly says: 'tsk tsk tsk.'

"It's all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they're rushing all sorts of decisions they'd normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and center —"

"Including you and Dad," I added. "Yes, well, your father and I were made for each other, what was the point in waiting?" said Mum. "Whereas Bill and Fleur . . . well . . . what have they really got in common? He's a hard- working, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she's —"

"A cow," I saying the first thing I could think of to describe her.

Hermione laughed, but disguised it as a cough.

"But Bill's not that down-to- earth. He's a Curse-Breaker, isn't he, he likes a bit of adventure, a bit of glamour. . . . I expect that's why he's gone for Phlegm." I added, justifying my thoughts. I'm so good at justifying.

In case you didn't know, justifying is basically making an excuse. Here's an example:

_Gemmie Wensley's heart skipped a beat when she saw the heroic and noble goof called Hermin Pottin. "But he's so handsome!" She said, **justifying **her actions. "It's so cute when he ruffles his hair, and I could stare at those eyes forever, just look at the way..." _

That's all for that story, folks! We wouldn't want Gemmie to get too carried away.

We continued to talk about Fleur when she left the room. Somehow it turned into a 'Who's better? Tonks or Phlegm?' Battle.

I was stuck on personality. How could you compare Phlegm's personality to Tonk's? But Ron went on a different direction, talking about how Tonks is "Okay looking" while Phlegm's a goddess. Hermione, on the other hand, mentioned how Tonks is way more intelligent while Phlegm is worth nothing. Not her exact words but who needs the specifics?

"Well, she was good enough for the triwizard tournament wasn't she? That's got to be worth something." He said. "Not you, too." Hermione muttered.

I kinda went into a mini-outrage. "I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ' 'Arry,' do you?" I huffed scornfully.

"No," said Harry, looking like he wished he hadn't spoken, "I was just saying, Phlegm — I mean, Fleur —"

The door opened again and Mum popped her head in. "Ginny," she whispered, "come downstairs and help me with the lunch."

I sighed. I really wanted to stay with Harry. Everyone. I ment to say everyone.

I helped out a bit, bored out of my mind until they came downstairs.

The first thing I noticed was a giant bruise around hermione's eye. Apparently Fred and George thought it'd be a funny prank to have a telescope that gave someone a black eye.

I watched as mum helped try and get it off, somewhat unseccessfully. "It'd be their idea of a funny prank to make sure it doesn't come off." I sighed. Hermione looked down at her feet sadly.

I sat down at the table, watching the trio talk for a while. I wasn't even really listening. I kind of felt bad that yes one talked to me during this whole conversation, but I shrugged it off.

My mind started wandering back to my example story about justification. You know, the one with Gemmie. I finished the story in my head. Let's just say that the end was what you would _definitely _call a 'happily ever after'.

All of a sudden, hermione shook me out of my thoughts by yelling, "theyre here!" Extremely loudly.

OWLs. I didn't stick around. I had this feeling that if I did, it wouldn't make a difference. But I didn't think of that. I slipped out of the room, leaving behind squeals of delight and horror. I'll be getting my owls testing one day, and I'm not looking forward to it.


End file.
